


A Shiver Down Her Spine

by AHarlot



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amita is Trans, Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Heavensward Spoilers, I cried while writing this just about every 12 sentences, I'd take a break then come back and immediately start crying again, It's not really relevant but I'm tagging it cause I want to, Sadness, trans woman character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHarlot/pseuds/AHarlot
Summary: A letter from the (a?) Warrior of Light. A Rava Viera known as Amita Mahajan. Undone by the weight of the death of the woman who warmed her heart like no one ever could, despite said woman's namesake. So here Amita sits at a candle-lit desk, tears dripping onto parchment and ruining ink, putting feelings she does not oft express onto paper in hopes that the other knows. That this brings Iceheart into her arms, as if the universe can will it to be simply because she begs and yearns for it night after night. As if her life isn't simply tragedy upon tragedy.
Relationships: Lady Iceheart/Warrior of Light, Ysayle Dangoulain/Warrior of Light
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	A Shiver Down Her Spine

**Author's Note:**

> I would write two sentences, cry, stop to give myself a breather, then cry some more. Hoping it has the same effect on y'all. I don't often write just emotional/angsty stuff like this with no form of payoff.

To Ysayle Dangoulain, Lady Iceheart,

It has been far, far too long since I’ve last seen your face. Your last moments are… embedded in my memories, as much as I try to ~~forget~~ think of happier memories. Every time I think of our time in camp by the fire, the first time I’ve ever seen you smile – and towards a moogle of all things, thinking no one else could see it – or… when we first met before that heretical altar. I knew from then I was meant to serve you. But Hydaelyn, or whatever cruel God that watched over us in that moment, had decided it was not meant to be.

Ysayle, you knew my history – my darkness – and you accepted it. You… you welcomed it. You knew I had taken so many lives, even if none were innocent, and welcomed me as a companion when the time came. I looked upon your own history and did the same, because deep down I felt loyalty unto you like no other had earned before. Your conviction against the Holy See, against falsely perpetuated history done solely for the benefit of a higher caste, of an unwavering faith even when the truth that was dropped upon you threatened to crush your resolve. Sharing these moments with you were moments that left a shiver down my spine and a little chill in my heart. A little of you remained.

But when I close my eyes all I can see is that peace in your face as you drift through the discolored and unnatural air of Azys Lla, as though you’d accepted your fate. Why had you, Ysayle? ~~Perhaps had I told you, maybe then you’d have fought harder.~~ No, that’s not on you. I’m sorry for writing that. I could never blame you for anything that happened, never speak of you with contempt in my words. But each passing moment grows harder as every night I see those final moments, even when I try to think of those happier thoughts, and it never fails to shatter my resolve once again. I’ve tried so hard to fight for you, in your absence. Acting as your substitute even within the politics of a place that is so foreign to me it makes me feel unwelcome; Even with allies at my back who try and comfort me.

I miss you, Ysayle. Every night, through tears no one else sees or hears or at least no one mentions, I miss you. I regret the fact that I never told you what you meant to me, what you’ll always, always mean to me. I hate that maybe, maybe you never knew. I hate that maybe you never felt the lingering gazes. I despise that the warmth in my words as we spoke over a fire or some mead in some inn, were never enough to warm your heart. All the little gestures of kindness weren’t out of the kindness of my heart. They weren’t moments shared with even the closest of my friends. They were for you, Ysayle.

I hope you at least knew that I would give anything in this world or any other to bring you back, even if for but a moment. To gaze upon that silvery hair framing your regal features, to hear your laugh and your words in these ears of mine, to watch your lips curve around the syllables of my name. Be it in that contempt when we first met, or the fondness prior to that final day in Ayzs Lla. To call you perfect would do a disservice to you, for you far surpassed any definition of the word, and I wish I knew a way to describe just how much you meant to me. I wish I knew a way for you to know. I can only hope that that peace you felt was that you did know, but deep down I… I doubt that. Most think of me as little more than this stoic, knightly woman of little words and even less expression. I can never be sure if you felt or understood the weight of those moments I spent smiling with you, defending you, fighting alongside you, cooking for you.

My biggest wish is that when my own time comes to pass, I have repaid all you have done for me, Ysayle. I never truly felt the title of Warrior of Light truly… applied to me. I was simply a Viera in the right place at the right time, time and time again. I never felt like a savior – never felt like a hero – until I met you. Until I heard that title come from your own lips and in that moment it… it felt right. In your presence is when I truly felt worthy of being what everyone had thrust upon me, in hopes of finding their savior.

Now that you’re gone I’m… I’m not sure I feel that anymore, but still I persist. To do right by you. To do justice in your name, and to create the world you would have wanted. Holding onto some faint hope that were you to return and that you still live, you could see my devotion and dedication to you and realize in that moment that I loved you more than any other woman on this world. More than anyone could ever love another. I love you, Ysayle. I hope – somehow – you’re out there, or simply watching over me and you… know this. Because entertaining the thought of my cowardice, my inability to act, is crippling otherwise.

I love you, Lady Iceheart. I miss you, o goddess Shiva. May you rest in peace or see your work be done, my dearest Ysayle.


End file.
